


Caught in a Storm

by Lucreace



Series: Horus Heresy Stuff [4]
Category: Horus Heresy - Various Authors, Warhammer 40.000
Genre: AU, F/M, Lust Monsters, Mildly Dubious Consent, Spirits, Warp, alternative universe, there is a plot!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 02:55:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11934840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucreace/pseuds/Lucreace
Summary: When she is summoned by her father, Tiahna is more than a little put out by the unexpected journey. What happens along the way forces her to see her father's warriors in a completely different light.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OK, had this idea kicking about in my head for a while now and so the only way to get rid of it was to write it out and have done with it. I think there will be three chapters to this one!

Tiahna hated travelling. The great outdoors was no particular love of hers, she would much rather be safe at home secluded in her library reading. She was by no means a weak thing but being out and about did nothing to improve either her temperament or her constitution. The hot, humid air had made her naturally curly red hair fluff up and the damp was making the pages of her book curl. The constant rumbling of the land-raider was giving her a headache and the escort she had been assigned were not doing anything to ease that matter either. Their incessant chatter was driving her to distraction.

What was worse, she had no idea where they were, only that it was dusty. Even inside the vehicle, the dust managed to permeate the air and cover everything as though it were a second skin. She felt disgusting. Along with the heat, the fact that she was sweating as though it were the latest fashion was making her particularly grumpy. Why her Lord Father had summoned her out of the blue was anyone’s guess. Why he didn’t just speak with her telepathically, as was his usual manner of contact, she had no idea.

She shut the heavy cover of her book and let out a sigh, “How much longer is this going to take?” Her gaze fell on her Father’s chief librarian but it quickly became apparent that her voice had become lost amongst the rumbling of the tank in which they sat. _“How much longer will this take?”_ she projected instead.

That made him look up. Although she couldn’t see his face, buried as it was behind his helmet, she felt him smile. It was not a gesture borne of kindness or gladness, rather a cruel thing, as though he were personally enjoying her discomfort. _“A while yet, go back to your book,”_ he sent back. She pressed her lips together but did not deign to respond. Nor did she do as he suggested. Instead, she focused her gaze on her hands and tried to ease her mind into a place of calm as she had been taught to do.

Several moments later, she reopened her book and was able to read some more of the tome her father had sent her. It was a translation of a local volume that dealt with the primitive thoughts of the local populous on the nature of souls. It wasn’t teaching her anything new on the matter but the different perspective was interesting enough in its own right. Utterly wrong of course but interesting none the less. She had informed her father of such when he had presented her the tome to read. He had said it would help her to understand the nature of the people they were trying to bring to compliance. Understanding their thoughts would be pivotal in changing them and bringing them to the Emperor’s Imperium. She was sure there was wisdom in his words but she wasn’t sure she saw it just yet.

Either way, she read the book as the land-raider bounced along. There was precious little else to do and she would not lower herself to engage the warriors around her in conversation. As far as she was concerned they were little more than weapons and one did not go around speaking to bolt guns if you wanted to appear sane.

There were four of them in the vehicle including herself. Ahzek Ahriman she had known for as long as she could remember. Hathor Maat, she had known of, rather than personally known and the other she had not met before.  They all seemed more than a little familiar with each other however by the way they chattered along. Their bickering about nonsense droned into the background hum of the land-raider’s engines. Her attention returned to the next part of the book.

This section detailed different spirits that the local populous believed haunted the regions. It was superstitious nonsense of course but they amused her anyway. There were the typical beliefs that ancient spirits guided the yet living population through means of crude divination. There were tales of vengeful spirits that had died before they were due who sought violence against those they had left behind; funnier yet were the tales of the spirits who were attracted to virgins and sought their defilement. She shook her head at the last one, wondering who had invented such a tall tale. Tiahna had no doubt that these beliefs stemmed from superstition surrounding warp beings that had manifested for one reason or another and left a lasting impression on the people. It was all rather primitive as far as she was concerned – the sooner they were off this rock the better!

When the land-raider finally stopped, she had no idea how far they had come.  The door to the vehicle swung open and it was only when she moved that she realised how cramped up her leg muscles had become. Slowly, she stretched them out as she rose before hopping off the transport and onto the grass covered ground. The fresh air was a welcome change after being confined to the tank and she sucked in a large breath.

A quick look around informed her that they had arrived at a small outpost. There were large tents set up and not a great deal else. Tiahna knew immediately that her father was not present. His psychic impression was nowhere in the camp, nor in the local vicinity either. A yawn passed her lips and she looked around to Ahriman, “Where are we?” she asked.

About four hours north of the drop site,” he replied. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, she could have worked that out herself. “Your father is camped another two hours away, across difficult terrain. Tomorrow, we continue on foot,” he added.

Tiahna ran a hand through her sweat-slick hair and suppressed another yawn. She would hardly admit to the warrior opposite her but she was tired. Ahriman jerked his head and she followed him to the largest tent. Inside was roomy, as was to be expected from her father’s pavilion. The large bed occupied but a single corner, there was a huge desk along with several seats, one of which she moved to occupy. There was a jug of water, from which she poured herself a glass.

“Are you hungry?” Ahriman asked.

“No,” she replied.

“If you need anything, just send,” he added. She nodded a response before curling herself up in one of the chairs further. He left her alone then, in the relative silence of the tent. The peace was divine; she opened the book in her lap once more and sipped some water as she started to read once again.

When the light started to fade, she slipped from the chair and onto her father’s bed. Despite the fact that they were in a tent and this was a hastily put up affair, it was comfortable. She knew she should remove the clothes she wore, wash the fine sheen of grit from her skin but now she was laid down; she found she didn’t want to rise again. The book was interesting and although the light was fading, she knew she had a half hour or so before it was gone completely. Besides, there were lights strung around the tent that she could light if she could be bothered to do so.

As Tiahna read more into the legends of the native people, she found her eyes growing slowly heavier. The mild tension behind her eyes faded and she leaned her head back against the soft pillows. It wasn’t long until her eyes drifted shut and sleep claimed her.

***

 Tiahna’s slumber was disturbed when the door to the tent was flung open and something heavy thudded into the room. The sound of wailing followed. She sat up. “What is that?” she asked, her voice still rough from sleep. A quick glance informed her that both Hathor Maat and Ahriman had entered the tent. Hathor Maat appeared to be concentrating on something; there was a slight frown between his eyes and a sheen on sweat covered his skin. She could smell the odd tang from where she was sat. The wailing intensified.

Her blue eyes met Ahriman’s dark ones and she tilted her head to the side a little, “What is that noise?” she asked again. It was then that she noted that he was no longer wearing his power-armour but in a set of light duty robes instead. His dark hair fell about his face and she noticed for the first time that his skin had a tanned colouring to it. She frowned. “What’s going on?” she demanded. Her voice rose an octave but she sucked in a cool breath, refusing to give in to fear of the unknown. Noise outside the tent drew her attention for a moment; Hathor took a step around the flap leaving them alone. There were a couple of flashes. The wailing receded but did not cease.

“Ahzek, you will tell me what is happening,” she stated.

“There are forces on this planet at work that we do not understand,” he said. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Tiahna pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. The dress she wore covered her feet. She turned to look into his face. It didn’t take much to see that his aura was troubled.

“I have read about some of the foolish beliefs of the people here,” she said patting the book at her side, “You’re not succumbing to their silly superstitions are you?” she asked. He gave her a flat look that indicated that indeed, he was. “Really?”

“There is no other real explanation for it,” he said.

“Explain,” she stated.

“This has never happened before and we have had this camp here for weeks.” Her eyes narrowed. “You are untouched, are you not?” Despite herself, she felt her cheeks colour.

“You’re not buying into that stupid story about the spirits after pure girls are you?” she snorted. The wailing outside grew louder. She shuddered. He looked at her expectantly, “Fine, I am as you put it, ‘untouched’,” she said. “And I will remain that way for a while yet,” she added.

The noises outside the tent grew louder, the sound of scuffling scratching the ground and Hathor chanting reached her ears. “I don’t know what’s taking so long, does it usually take this long?” he yelled through the canvas, “Get a move on!” Her eyes widened at the implication of what Hathor was saying.

She shot Ahzek an accusatory look, “Is that why you’re wearing robes?” she barked. “You came here to do what the spirits want! How is that any better?”

“I won’t devour you afterwards,” he said. His tone was more than a little dry and she rolled her eyes.

“I’m not going to let you,” she replied. She folded her arms over her chest and refused to look at him. “My father would never approve of this either,” she added.

“He isn’t here.”

“He will know about this ridiculousness!”

“Yes, he will.” Ahzek let out a sigh and ran a hand over his face, “I don’t want to do this, any more than you want me to,” he said. Her eyes narrowed when she looked up again.

“Did you draw straws?” she hissed, “Did you draw the short one and get shoved in here?”

“Of course not!” he snapped back. There was a loud wail outside the tent; the poles shook. Hathor’s chanting resumed at a hurried rate. “I’m not attractive, I’m not experienced but I swear I will not hurt you,” he said. Tiahna was tempted to demand he swap with Hathor through nothing more than spite.

“I don’t want you!” she said.

“And I don’t want you either,” he retorted. “But unless you want to have your flesh devoured by soulless warp spawn I suggest you get used to the idea!” She recoiled from his tone and watched, helpless as he moved towards her. He was really going to do it! Her breath caught in her throat; blood rushed in her ears and her palms became sweaty. She tried to scoot away from him but his large hand caught her ankle. “Please,” he said, his voice far softer than usual, “Don’t make me use force!”

She knew he could do that if he wanted to. She knew him as a scholar first and foremost but he was also a warrior gifted by the Emperor; the armour ports visible on his forearms reminded her of this. Swallowing hard, Tiahna capitulated. She shifted so that she was lying on her back and stared defiantly at the ceiling. His grip on her ankle loosened and he gently pushed her legs apart. The gentleness was not what she expected. It would have been easier if he’d been rough. She screwed her eyes shut, forcing back the water that threatened to spill from them.

She opened them again when his hand tugged the layers of her dress upwards. Her thighs tensed as she watched him open the front of his robes. Although she had read about it in numerous books, she had never actually seen a naked man before. Her eyes took in the sight, finally resting on the place between his legs. “Hah!” she barked, “You can’t do it when it’s all floppy like that!” she added.

He raised an eyebrow at her before wrapping his hand around his member. A curious hot feeling settled between her legs as she watched him get hard. “Ahzek,” she said nervously. The wailing outside intensified.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said. He leaned forward over her, resting one hand on the wooden bed frame. The other gently pushed her underwear to the side. She felt his length nudge at her soft skin and realised that the sensation was not altogether unpleasant. She did not know when she had become so wet either. There was pressure, a building sensation that was almost painful. She felt him pushing with his hips, not forcefully, but firmly. Her hands gripped his shoulders, her nails biting into the flesh. Screwing her eyes shut, the pressure built to an almost painful level. She was about to cry out when there was a rush and the pressure subsided. What was left in its place was a feeling of fullness that she had never experienced before.  It surprised her how good it felt, she wondered whether the rest of the act would feel so pleasant.

The wailing ceased. The tent stopped shaking.

He closed his eyes, sucked in a deep breath and withdrew from her. “It is done,” he said needlessly. Tiahna swallowed and tucked her legs up underneath her, yanking her dress down.

“Leave me,” she said. Ahzek merely moved to the edge of the bed and wrapped the robe back around his muscular body. She thought she saw him tremble but dismissed the idea as foolish. After a moment, he rose and poured her a glass of water. She was still sipping it when Hathor dared to poke his head around the edge of the tent flap.

“Everything alright?” he asked. Tiahna nodded, wiping away a stray tear from her cheek.

“Fine,” Ahzek replied. “The spirits?”

“Gone,” Hathor said. Silence fell. “I’ll be out there,” he said, gesturing behind him before disappearing. The silence lengthened.

“Is there anything you need?” Ahzek asked, finally breaking the silence that loomed like a pall over them. She shook her head, unable to find the words to fit. What she wanted was her father’s arms around her, reassuring her that this was just a bad dream and that it would be alright in the end. She knew he would do so when he discovered what had happened here. After a moment, she turned her face up to Ahzek.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, keeping her tone cold. “You should go.”

The warrior nodded and finally got up off the bed. “If you need anything, send for me,” he added. She felt as though she should snap back at him, how he had done all she would ever need from him and that she never wanted to see him again, ever. She also knew how ridiculous that was so she merely nodded instead. He didn’t say anything else, just turned from her and left her alone in the gloom of her father’s tent. She curled up on the bed then, let the ache in her crotch become the sole focus of her being. Eventually, she forced her mind elsewhere, letting it drift away from the ache in her body and onto other, more distracting things. It was a long while before sleep claimed her.


	2. Chapter 2

Tiahna’s father returned the following morning. From the moment she awoke, she knew he was in camp. His presence was a burning sun in her mind, one she was well used to blocking out for the most part. Not this morning. She had more than a few things she wanted to inform him of, the sooner the better. However, she did not summon him. It was clear from the colour of his aura that he had things he had to attend to first. Besides, she wanted to appear as though the previous night had not been a traumatic experience; that she had been in control the whole time and that she had been alright with what happened.

When she bothered to rise, she poured some water into a bowl and sponged herself off as best as she could. It was a far cry from being completely clean but it was better than she had been the night before. Her stomach grumbled then and she realised she hadn’t eaten since the previous morning. She knew she could summon Ahzek and make him get her something but she didn’t want his help at that moment. Seeing him again would just remind her of what he had forced her to do.

She was about to go in search of something to eat when the flap of the tent was thrown aside and her Lord Father burst in. “What’s wrong?” he asked. She had seen him worried before, of course she had but never with a frown as deep as the one he wore now. Despite everything, she felt her throat constrict. Try as she might, she was unable to force the lump aside. Her eyes prickled and her cheeks flushed.

“Father…” she managed to say before her voice broke and she crumpled. He was by her side within moments, his huge arms pulled her into a hug. Her resolve broke and she wept for a long while. When she lifted her head from his chest, she sniffed and looked around for a cloth. He handed her one and she carefully cleaned her face. Her eyes felt puffed up and her nose was a little sore.

“Now, what is all this?” her father asked gently. She moved to sit opposite him and looked down at her hands.

“I think we need Ahriman in here…” she said, her voice a little thick from the tears. She flicked her eyes back up to his concerned face and pressed her lips together.

“I’ve summoned him,” he said. He poured them both a glass of water and she took a sip, trying to figure out how this was going to go. She tried to judge his mood but if there was one thing Magnus was good at, it was concealing his thoughts. She flinched when the tent opened and Ahzek stepped inside. At least he was dressed once more in the crimson battle plate she was accustomed to seeing him in. Still, her breath hitched and she refused to meet his eyes when he looked at her. She couldn’t manage it.

“What is it… Ah,” he said. It didn’t take a genius to work out what this was about.

“Apparently you are the reason my daughter is upset?” Magnus said, “Care to tell me what is going on?” There was no unkindness in his voice, no accusation. She dearly wanted him to shout at Ahriman but knew that was unlikely to happen.

“Last night was difficult,” he said. She snorted.

“That’s an understatement if ever I heard one!” she snapped.

“Go on.”

“Do you know the book you sent me to read?” she said, “It detailed the myths of this cursed planet and some of the stupid things that live here as well.” Magnus nodded, “There was a story about spirits that sought a woman’s purity.” Her anger faded here, her cheeks coloured and she pressed her lips together.

“I remember something along those lines,” Magnus replied, “Superstition no doubt.”

“No, it’s not,” she shook her head and forced back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes once more. “It happened father, they came here… for me!” She forced her clenched fists at her sides to relax and she sucked in a calming breath.

His gaze hardened and he looked in turn from her to Ahriman and back again. “I don’t like where this is going. Ahriman, what did you do?”

“He…” she paused, gathered her thoughts about what she was going to say before continuing, “He did what he had to,” she sighed. Ahriman looked at her then, stunned. “I can’t say I was enthralled with the idea but… it worked.”

“What do you have to say about this?” he asked, turning to look at his First Captain. She could see from the ever shifting colour of his eye that he was displeased.

“Neither of us wanted to,” Ahriman said. His tone was level, as though he was giving a report rather than explaining how he had stolen her maidenhead. Still, she found herself defending him, why she had no idea.

“He did it to protect me!” she said.

“Why you?” Magnus asked, “Why not Maat? He is Pavoni! He could have healed her afterwards! What were you thinking?”

She flinched again as his volume rose. She shook her head, “Father,” she said. His head snapped to hers, “He didn’t hurt me,” she explained. “He stopped the moment the deed was done,” she added, trying not to flush when telling her father the details of what happened. She failed. Her father sucked in a large breath through his nose and let it out slowly.

“You’ll have to get married,” he stated.

“What!?” they both said in unison. She exchanged a horrified look with Ahriman, whose facial expression was a mirror of her own. Her hand covered her mouth of its own accord and when she tried to swallow, she found that she couldn’t.

“Why?” she asked.

“He took your purity,” he stated as though it was the single most important thing there was.

“That doesn’t mean-“

He cut her off with a wave of his hand, “There will be no arguing this,” he said firmly. She pressed her lips together and folded her arms over her chest.

“But I don’t love him!” Ahriman snorted next to her, “It would be like marrying a bolt gun or something.”

“What has love got to do with anything?” her father asked, “Do you think I loved your mother when we were forced together?” She blinked. Magnus rarely spoke about her long dead mother and for him to do so now made her listen. He ran a hand through his mane of thick red hair before placing huge hands onto the arms of the chair in which he was sat.

“I thought that-“

“You were wrong,” he interrupted. “I thought she had been sent to spy on me, I didn’t want her around anymore than you appear to want Ahzek. Over time I came to realise that such was not the case. She was a patient woman, putting up with the horrible things I did and said to her. I learned to love her. Ahzek is far more than a mere weapon, what do you know of him?” he asked.

She looked over at the warrior beside her and pressed her lips together, “Well, he is… he’s your chief librarian!”

“And…”

“Uh, he is Corvidae!”

“And…”

“I…” she trailed off, “Alright, I don’t know him very well.”

Magnus smiled at her then, “He is far more than his roles within the legion and you would do well to learn such.”

“You do me great honour,” Ahzek said softly.

“If further harm comes to her, you are responsible for it,” he said. Tiahna sucked in a breath and bowed her head a little, looking at her fingers as they rested in her lap.

“You’re not going to change your mind are you?” she said.

“No,” Magnus replied. “There are far worse matches for you and I am sure you will come to agree with that sentiment eventually.” The Primarch got to his feet then and stretched his large frame. “I have work to do,” he said. He did not elaborate further, instead left the two of them alone in the tent. For a long while, neither of them said anything. When she finally dared to look up, he was watching her carefully.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know this isn’t what you want.” She clamped her eyes shut and refused to give in to the tears that threatened to run from her eyes once more. An armoured hand covered hers; she let him hold it, “I’ll never hurt you,” he said. She could have taken it if he was horrid about this, would have been able to prevent the outburst of emotion. As it was, her tears slid down her face and a sob burst from her lips.

“How can you be so calm about this?” she asked. He didn’t answer, just pressed a towel into her hands, which she used to wipe away her tears. She stole a glance at the warrior who she would soon be joined with and swallowed. Despite his instance to the contrary the previous evening, he was not unattractive. His dark eyes glittered with the light and although he had the over muscled physic of the Astartes, she knew his mind was what truly mattered.

She folded the towel and placed it on the table, “I won’t rush you in to anything either,” he said, “We’ll go at a pace you’re comfortable with.”

“You’re far too kind to me,” she whispered, fresh tears brimming in her eyes.

“I watched the struggle your parents went through, I have no wish for this to be the same,” he said.

“You knew my mother?” she asked, meeting his eyes once more.

“Of course, she spoke to me when Lord Magnus was being obstinate,” he said. Despite the ludicrousness of their situation, she smiled.

“Will you tell me of her?” she asked.

“Perhaps later, I do have duties to attend,” he replied.

“Of course,” she nodded. It seemed that everyone had something to do here but her. She wondered why she had been called here but decided that bothering her father again was not something she wanted to do just then. She could wait, she had reading material. She didn’t look up when Ahzek rose from where he had been sat.

“I will come by later,” he said. He reached down to brush the tips of his fingers over her cheek. The effect was somewhat lost due to the gauntlets he still wore but she knew what he was trying to achieve.

“I’d like that,” she said. She meant it too, if they were going to be forced together, she may as well make the most of it as she could! She caught the small smile that played about his thin lips and he nodded. He withdrew from the tent then, leaving her to her thoughts once more.


End file.
